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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536497">I'm serious, I'm sorry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/somuchmorethantime/pseuds/somuchmorethantime'>somuchmorethantime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marble Hornets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Everyone Is Alive, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Marble Hornets, jay is skully because i say so, kind of at least, this isnt based on comic skully because i havent read them yet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:28:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/somuchmorethantime/pseuds/somuchmorethantime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim sits defeated, hands resting on the steering wheel, as he stares lifelessly through the windscreen. He believes it to be over, or at least he hopes that it is. His mind wanders to Jay. Jay, who he spent countless nights lying awake with, who he calmed down from nightmares, who comforted him after panic attacks, who only meant well, whose body he left in in Benedict Hall. He has to go back for him.   </p><p>He takes a left at the next roundabout and forks back towards the hall.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jay Merrick/Timothy "Tim" Wright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'm serious, I'm sorry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this is the first time im writing a proper fic so enjoy I guess<br/>I hope to post on Fridays but exams are coming up soon so that may change<br/>I promise the next chapter will be longer as well :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rhythmic pounding resonates through the dark as the Other runs. Time seems to flow without end amongst the trees, the sky never lightening, seeming to get progressively darker and more oppressive. Leaves crunching under his feet are the only sounds to be heard; no birds tweeting or animals shuffling. Almost silence, but not quite. The quiet only amplifies the sound of his short breaths as his lungs struggle to catch up with his legs. The Other doesn’t know how long it has been since the Bird was injured. He doesn’t know whether it matters. All that matters is that he keeps the Bird safe, that’s his job after all. Protector. Clearly, he failed at his job. He won’t fail again. He owes at least that much to the Bird.<br/>
He needs to get out of here, that’s undisputed, the only question is how? Running doesn’t work. Or, at least, he assumes it doesn’t. It must have been days now that he’s been attempting to escape. Desperation begins to seep into his mind as he realises that he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to do. 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110110 01100101. </p><p>The hooded man wakes up. This in of itself is unexpected given the circumstances. Splatters of dried blood surround him, clinging to the cold, grey concrete that he is lying on. Pain shoots through his side as he becomes more aware of his surroundings, twisting his head to get a better look around. He realises, with a jolt of surprise, that he really should be in more pain than he is, if not paralysed or even dead. This is unusual, however certainly not unwelcome. He lingers, not standing up straight away, taking time to reflect. He will be more careful next time. He let his guard down and it almost ended in his demise. He underestimated the Controlled. He won't be so reckless in future, that's the Dog's purpose.<br/>
The hooded man hasn't seen the Dog in a while. He assumes that this is fine. The hooded man makes a lot of assumptions, correct or not. He is an expert in jumping to conclusions. Not as impulsive as the Bird, or as untameable as the Dog, but his presumed intelligence is certainly a flaw.<br/>
He props himself up on his elbows, surveying his surroundings in a little more detail this time. He's alone, luckily.</p><p>The Controlled is propped against a tree. It's a miracle the Other has not run into him yet, both physically and literally. The Other would not treat the Controlled kindly, however, it's more likely that he would just flee. His main goal is to protect right now. Protect the Bird for the Bird cannot protect himself.<br/>
The Controlled has woken, but his brain has not stirred. He was the last to exit, he will be the last to return. His Original is in control. His Original is in pain. His Original knows and regrets. His Original will rise and make it better. His Original will fix this. The Controlled is unlikely to return soon, luckily for the rest.<br/>
The Controlled is a threat. Not thinking for himself, only obeying commands sent by a corrupted ruler. The others fought against it but the Controlled could not, for that was the Controlled's purpose. He was the only successful test subject. The others were reckless, un-obeying, feral. They follow their own agenda, choosing to fight against their commands. They weren't connected like he was, but now his connection has been shattered too. He will reach to pick up the fragments, try and shape them back into a whole. </p><p>Tim sits defeated, hands resting on the steering wheel, as he stares lifelessly through the windscreen. He believes it to be over, or at least he hopes that it is. At what cost though? Jay's dead. Brian's Dead. Alex is dead. He's the only one left.<br/>
Lost, he starts the engine, camera flashing, balanced on the dashboard. He needs to go home. Home. He doesn't even have one anymore, thanks to Alex. He guesses a shitty motel with suspicious stains on the walls will have to work for now. The engine rumbles quietly, familiar white noise, neither pleasant nor unwanted. No sense of urgency. No running. No static. No calming, disjointed rambling coming from the passenger seat as Jay recounts another tale of his childhood, shrouded in static but the basics remaining. Jay, who he spent countless nights lying awake with, who he calmed down from nightmares, who comforted him after panic attacks, who only meant well, whose body he left in in Benedict Hall. He has to go back for him.<br/>
He takes a left at the next roundabout and forks back towards the hall.</p>
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